


The Politics of Princess Toadstool

by voleuse



Category: Angel: the Series
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2004-03-14
Updated: 2004-03-14
Packaged: 2017-10-09 00:45:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,180
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/81185
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/voleuse/pseuds/voleuse
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Nintendo is, occasionally, the great equalizer.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Politics of Princess Toadstool

**Author's Note:**

> Mid-S5.

Spike appears at her apartment one evening, a six-pack in one hand and a bag of take-out in the other. In her surprise, Fred stares through the peephole longer than usual, and it's only when his brow creases that she realizes she's being rude.

She opens the door with a sheepish, "Hey."

He grins. "I heard you had a Playstation." She nods, and he holds up the take-out. "I have a blooming onion."

She invites him in without hesitation.

*

 

Fred's half a beer in, and happily not drunk, but well on her way to being tipsy. She's certainly more happy to be eating friend onion than she normally would be. Or maybe it's the company.

Charles had hooked up a PS2 to her TV as an apartment-warming gift, but she had considered his quick grin and friendly hug the real gift. They all spend so much time at the office, nowadays, that she's never really had an opportunity to truly appreciate her shiny new video games.

Seeing Spike work his way through the latest verison of Super Mario Bros., however, is more fun than actually playing the game herself.

"Dammit!" He swears as he loses the game, again, and tosses a handful of kettle corn at the screen. "Bowser got me again."

"Too bad." She drains the rest of her beer, and pops open another one. "Y'know, I always wondered about this game."

**Game Over** appears on the screen, and he throws another handful of popcorn at it before he sighs and settles back onto the couch. "Wondered what?" Opens his third beer and takes a gulp or two.

"What's happening." She points at the game demonstration, underlay to the **Continue?** that flashes periodically. "Why are they fighting the Koopas?"

"Because," he shrugs. "Aren't they evil? Demon-looking and all. The Marios are fighting the good fight, and all that."

"That's the thing." She feels the gears of her mind grinding together hotly. "How do we know the Koopas are the bad guys? I mean, sure, they look demony and all, but that's just superficial."

Spike eyes her warily. "Yeah."

"So," she continues, "Mario and Luigi could just be interfering, well-meaning do-gooders who feel like they have to save a kingdom from what could just be a dynasty in need of some cosmetic surgery."

"But," Spike points to the screen, where Bowser has slung the princess over his scaly shoulder, "they kidnapped Princess Toadstool! They overthrew the Mushroom Kingdom!"

"So?" Fred takes another sip of beer. "We don't know anything about the Mushroom Kingdom besides the fact that Mario, Luigi, the princess, and Yoshi prefer it. For all we know, the Mushroom King could be a tyrant who oppresses any species that looks different from his version of pretty."

"I think," and Spike takes Fred's half-full beer from her hand and sets it on the end table, "you've had too much to drink."

"What?" She lunges across him and grabs her beer back. "I have not."

He looks at her sidelong, a smile tweaking the corner of his mouth. "Do you always overthink your forms of entertainment?"

She shrugs, gulps the rest of her beer. "Sometimes." Her accent is thickening now, and it'd feel just like home, if she wasn't sitting next to a vampire from England. "It's been a while, though. I'm usually discussing science at work, lately."

"Yeah, I figured." He eats the remaining shards of blooming onion. "Wanna order a pizza?"

She's already dialing the number. "You like jalapeños?"

*

 

There's one slice left to their large jalapeño, mushroom, and pineapple pizza, and Fred's pretty sure she hasn't eaten such a disgusting meal in a while. As she scoops another spoonful of mint chocolate chip ice cream into her mouth, though, she decides she doesn't regret a thing.

Neither does Spike, apparently, as he's still nibbling on the last of the hot wings. Of course, he won't need to partake of her stock of Alka-Mints tonight, so he probably has better reason to be carefree than she does.

Until then, however, she's glad he stopped by. Hanging out with Spike isn't the same fun as spending the evening with Knox, or Wesley, or Charles would be, but she's having the blast all the same.

Spike, at least, didn't laugh at her when she dug out the first season of _Dawson's Creek_ on DVD and insisted they have a marathon. In fact, Fred is surprised to discover that he's better versed in _Creek_ lore than she is, having been in the right dimension during the show's heyday.

"See, already you can see she has better chemistry with Pacey than with Dawson," he points out, again. "They're obviously meant for each other."

"Obviously." She hides her giggle behind another spoonful of ice cream.

"I don't know why they bothered with the Dawson folderol," he grumbles. "Total waste of time."

She offers the rest of the ice cream to Spike, but he shakes his head. "Pacey did fall in love with Andie during the second season." She saunters to the kitchen to put the ice cream in the freezer, and returns to the living room with a Diet Coke for herself and a beer for Spike.

"Andie, schmandie." He dismisses the character with a wave of his hand. "It's not like she stayed on for the long run. Just disappeared."

She props her feet up on the coffee table. "You're right." Leans her head against his shoulder, and pretends not to see his look of surprise. "Wanna watch something else?"

"S'alright." He wraps his arm around her shoulders, friend-like. "This'll do."

*

 

Fred wakes up to the faint beeping of her alarm clock. It sounds farther away than usual, and when she opens her eyes, she realizes she's still in the living room, snuggled up to Spike.

He smells like leather and laundry detergent. It's nice.

She cranes her neck up and winces. Falling asleep sitting up always leaves her sore. She can't help but smile, though, at Spike's face. Still sleeping, the cynicism is faded, and he looks a hundred years younger.

"Hey." She pokes him in the side. "Spike?"

When he wakes, he startles, and looks around wildly. Sees her. "Oh."

"Good morning."

"Morning."

"I gotta get ready for work." She wipes her mouth, suddenly wondering if she drooled during the night. "Do you want some coffee?"

He shakes his head, and his expression is almost shy. "No. You?"

"Sure." She stands up, stretches. Yawns. "I'm gonna go--"

"Yeah." He nods, stands up himself. "Go ahead."

There's an awkward moment, where they're both still, ready to spring away.

"Aw, screw it." Fred hops forward, throwing her arms around Spike in a bear hug. "Last night was fun."

"Yeah." His expression is guarded, but she thinks his eyes look hopeful. "It was." He steps back from her hug carefully. "I'll make you some coffee. Get ready for work."

She starts walking to her room, then turns back. "Spike?"

He's already in the kitchen, puttering about. "Yeah?"

"We should do this more often."

He smiles, then. "Yeah." Laughs. "We should."

So they do.


End file.
